52. Chapter 52 #2
The lead hound sees me. Recognition transforms him so completely that it would be comical if he weren’t capable of swallowing a human torso intact. His ears spring forward. The thick plume of his tail begins hammering from side to side with such force that his hindquarters sway behind it.
I drop to my knees. “Mauler.”
He launches himself through the room. A cluster of waiting demons scatters with varying degrees of dignity, while Mauler barrels past, followed by Ripper and Gnasher. All three skid across polished stone as they attempt to change direction without reducing speed.
Mauler reaches me first, shoving his massive head into my lap.
The force knocks me off balance, and I grip the fur at his neck to steady myself.
I hadn’t realized how badly I needed a bit of familiarity down here until I had three hundred pounds of hellhound trying to climb onto me.
They’ve spent more nights beside me than most demons ever bothered to.
I bury both hands in the coarse fur behind his ears. Heat radiates through it, startling after the chill of the stone, and Mauler lets out a cavernous groan that rattles through his chest. The sound is so familiar it hurts in an entirely different way.
“Hey.” I scratch harder at the spot beneath one ear. “I missed you too.”
Ripper decides this is unacceptable and shoulders into him, producing a deep warning rumble that would empty most rooms but means nothing more serious than move over.
I chuckle. He’s never tolerated affection being distributed unevenly.
Gnasher takes advantage of the distraction to wedge his snout beneath my forearm.
All three smell dreadful: brimstone, scorched fur, and damp earth.
Krell watches with open disgust. “You’re fraternizing with those mangy mutts.”
“Call them that again and I’ll let them decide which part of you looks most chewable.”
Mauler licks the entire side of my face, his tongue dragging from my jaw to my temple and leaving a hot trail of saliva creeping toward my collar. I jerk back with a startled laugh, wiping at my cheeks while he stands there panting at me.
The succubus beside my abandoned seat lowers her magazine and grimaces. “That’s revolting.”
“Yes.” I swipe my sleeve across my cheek again, but the smile refuses to leave. “It really is.”
“Those creatures have dismembered people.” Krell gestures at the three of them.
“So have half the beings here waiting for a case review.”
“Some of us had authorization,” the succubus says, turning another page.
Krell turns toward her. She raises one elegant eyebrow but otherwise ignores him.
“They’re doing their best.” Gnasher answers with a deep, chest-rattling bark that sends a puff of smoke curling from his jaws. “Aren’t you, buddy? Yes, you are. Such a good hellhound.”
That earns me another disgusted look.
A whistle splits the waiting room, and all three halt. Around us, several creatures visibly relax. The vampire lowers one foot toward the floor, thinks better of it when Ripper glances his way, then waits.
The whistle sounds again, longer this time. Mauler’s ears flatten. He looks toward the corridor, then back at me.
“You have to go.”
The three hounds retreat reluctantly, paws scraping over stone as they turn. I wipe the remaining hellhound saliva from my jaw and sit down again.
Across from me, Krell is glaring.
“What?”
“You are deeply strange.” He nods toward the corridor. “And determined to make an already intolerable evening worse. We wouldn’t even be sitting in this miserable queue if you had managed your contract properly in the first place.”
The accusation is so familiar my first instinct is to accept it. That’s always been easier with Krell: let him sneer, let him pick apart whatever I did wrong, and wait until it’s over without creating another problem for later.
Except I’m tired of him sitting there polishing his irritation into yet another reason I’m a disappointment.
“No.” I lean forward, forearms braced against my knees. “Actually, this one is your own fault.”
His brows draw together. “Excuse me?”
“My contract was my responsibility.” Once I start, years of swallowed irritation spill out with the rest. “You attached yourself to my work because you thought you could profit from it. All for some one-sided grudge you seem to have against me.”
“You might want to remember who you’re speaking to.”
“I know exactly who I’m speaking to.” It feels better than it should not to hold my tongue. “An asshole who inserted himself into my business, tried to take Evie’s soul when it was never his contract to begin with, and is now blaming me because it backfired.”
A sharp laugh breaks from beside me. The succubus has lowered her magazine, one manicured hand pressed over her mouth while her shoulders shake. “Oh, this is some top-notch entertainment.”
Krell’s face darkens at once, red creeping high across his cheeks while the glow in his eyes sharpens. “Nobody asked you.”
“No, but you’ve been projecting your conversation for everyone to hear.” She folds the magazine over one knee and looks him over with lazy amusement. “If you wanted privacy, you should’ve tried whispering.”
Krell’s eyes flare deeper red. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” She recrosses her legs, unbothered. “I’ve spent six centuries negotiating with princes, archdemons, and men who thought owning a yacht made them interesting. Whatever title you’re about to give me, I promise I’ve survived worse.”
For once, Krell has nothing ready.
“I’ve been waiting three hours. My case has been bumped twice because somebody merged Succubus Licensing with Paranormal Conduct Review, and there is a shifter behind me chewing with his mouth open.
I don’t have the patience for wounded male pride tonight.
” She lifts her magazine again and gives it a neat snap. “Now sit there quietly.”
I turn away to hide the smile pulling at my mouth.
The number board chirps.
NOW SERVING 4814.
At this rate, we’re going to be here for a while.
Maybe that’s fitting. I’ve got what Tavrik claims will be four hours ahead of me, plus Krell’s company for however long Hell decides to stretch that estimate.
In reality, it could mean anything from four hours to the better part of a century.
I can’t pretend I haven’t earned at least some of it.
My thoughts return to Evie. I hope one day she understands why I did it. More than that, I hope one day she can forgive me.